


The Book Of Going Forth By Day

by seductivefeline



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Ancient Egypt, M/M, Thief King Ryou
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-27
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 19:19:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 20,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2877068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seductivefeline/pseuds/seductivefeline
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is a fickle thing, and doesn't always go as planned. Ryou learns this the hard way as he and his brother are taught how live, thieve and survive by the King of Thieves himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story somehow spouted from coming up with aimless headcanons about Thief King raising Bakura and Ryou. Originally, I wrote it for nanowrimo, but due to a trip I couldn't work on it any longer. I was ready to pitch it, but because my girlfriend seemed to enjoy the whole concept, I decided I would continue it and dedicate it to her for Christmas. /heart
> 
> * * * - flashback
> 
> ... - time skip/scene switch

" _Get back here, you mangy street rats!_ "

"Faster!"

But he was already going as fast as his stubby legs would allow. Bare, callused feet pounded into the sand as a pair of boys raced through the streets, narrowly dodging the many bystanders that walked about; mostly women holding baskets and pots. Despite their scrawny, lithe forms, neither of them were as nearly as nimble as expected; they were shouldered and tripped many times, barely managing to catch themselves before pumping their weak legs harder.

" _Stop them! Thieves!_ "

Hands brushed the boy's shoulders to try and grab for them, but no real effort was made expect by gruff looking men that would enjoy seeing a thief get punished, even ones as young as they; it was quite an amusing show to watch a couple of children be publicly thrown into a pit of crocodiles for stealing. Despite their obvious inexperience, they both managed to dodge the groping palms; they refused to let themselves to be caught so easily, if at all. Every stone and pebble on the ground managed to trip both of them one way or another, but the boys refused to lose their meager plunder that they grasped so tightly within their filthy arms.

The slightly taller of the two had something whisk past his ear; a stone.

"That bastard!"

His brother snarled this crossly, but the projectile was avoided; the aim had been horrendously inaccurate. It was assumed this was because the shop-keeper decided that a couple of dusty onions simply wasn't worth the effort.

The final stone thrown managed to hit him right between the shoulder blade and spine, causing him to hiss loudly in pain. However, they both kept kept running; he and his brother needed this food, and no chubby, old shop-keeper was about to stop him with a measly pebble. Then there was a flash of white out of the corner of his eye, followed by a startled scream.

" _A demon!_ "

The taller of the boys cursed and suddenly whipped around a corner, a hand over his hair, guiding his brother along with him. They had entered a narrow alley between a couple of stone buildings. They used this to escape the main road and avoid their chaser, who had obviously lost all interest in the two young thieves.

The taller one finally collapsed on the dusty ground once they were safe. His brother trailed behind him, a slight limp in his step, though this was forgotten when he saw the crimson staining the back of the others pale tunic.

"Bakura! You're bleeding!"

The boy by the name of Bakura whipped his head around, garnet eyes glaring daggers at his brother. "Shut your mouth, Ryou. Don't be so loud. That shop-keeper could still be around."

Ryou didn't flinch at his brother's harsh tone, but he took the words to heart and lowered his voice. "You're bleeding..." he repeated worriedly, kneeling on the ground behind Bakura.

"It's fine. I can't even feel it."

The shorter boy sighed and sat back against the stone house. He gazed at his brother with obvious worry. His eyes trailed up and down his brother's body. "Your wig came off."

Bakura slipped his hands into his filthy, cascading hair, which was of a curious white hue. Ryou had grown used to seeing white hair, but as anybody knew, it wasn't a common hair color in Egypt. He slid is own wig off and dropped it on the ground, feeling better having it off.

Their whole family, excluding their mother, had hair as white as a full moon. Their mother had dark hair, though it seemed none of her offspring bore this trait. She also had dark skin, but their father had skin as pale as a sun-bleached bone, and his children did as well. No matter how often they were out in the sun, the hue of their skin never seemed to darken. It made them look different; being different in a land that thrived for consistency and feared change wasn't a positive thing. If they were lucky, the two brothers would be seen as freaks and were simply cast aside.

But at the worst, they were accused of being demons and damned by Ra himself. Just by existing their souls would be devoured by Ammit, which of course shook young Ryou to the core and made him fear death. However, Bakura had always just scoffed at the cruel threats and words. This always seemed to bring Ryou some amount of comfort.

"Nobody saw," Bakura finally lied.

"I heard somebody shout demon."

"They could have been shouting that at anyone."

"Bakura..."

"Shut up and eat your onion before your stomach caves in. I can hear the damn thing growl from here."

Ryou gave up arguing and did as as he was told. Even if they were twins, he always did what his brother commanded, and this wasn't just because he was born first by a few minutes. Between the two of them, Ryou was meek, soft-spoken, looked and acted like a woman, while Bakura was a natural leader. Though the elder was reckless and had a wild temper, he was very intelligent.

He peeled the crispy outer layer of his onion off before he sunk his teeth into it. It was sour and bitter against his pallet, but after not eating for what seemed like forever, it was the sweetest and most tantalizing thing he had ever eaten. Unable to control his wild appetite, he scarfed the onion down in only a few gulps. He knew eating like this would result in intense discomfort to his normally empty stomach, but he was absolutely ravenous.

The onion was gone far too soon. He began licking his dirty hands, trying to lap off any remaining flavor. It was then that Bakura shoved his onion over to Ryou.

"Take it."

Ryou frowned and shook his head, "I can't take this. It's yours. You need it."

"I'm not hungry."

The youth gazed at his brother, suspicion dancing in his doe eyes, "...Are you sure? You haven't eaten for as long as I have."

"I'm fine. I swear... just eat it."

Ryou bit his chapped lip, but again, he did as he was told. His brother was smart. He was a liar and reckless sometimes, but he was clever too. Ryou trusted him. He nodded obediently and quickly tucked into the vegetable. He tried to pace himself, but he ended up devouring it almost as fast as the first. When he was done, Bakura was already standing.

"Come on. We should get out of here." Bakura commanded, his voice sullen. Ryou nodded and stood. The two headed down the alleyway, hand in hand.

* * *

"Abbi's[1] home!" 

Whenever Ryou heard those words, he had always been filled with excitement.

Amane was always the first to spot him, since she was usually hiding on the roof of their hut and claiming it was her castle. Their father often left from a couple of days to a week at a time. This trip had been long; two whole weeks. He had gone to the nearest village to sell some goods and buy essentials.

That particular day had been boring for Ryou. He had done his chores already that morning, so he drew things in the sand with a stick, but once those words were jubilantly shouted from his sister's lips, he raised sights eagerly to the horizon.

When he came riding in from the distance on their family's elderly horse, Ryou and Amane had bounded out to meet him, kicking sand on their excited wake. He slid off the mount and welcomed both of his children into a hug. Ryou was always excited for his return, and not only because he would go days without seeing him; he sometimes brought treats for them as well, like sugar and honey.

This time he brought new tunics for his two sons, one of which was not present for the man's return.

"You two are growing up. You need them," he explained as Ryou excitedly took the fabric. Up until now, he and his brother went around in small shendis, or nothing at all. Ryou pulled the tunic over himself. It felt weird to have something covering the top half of his normally bare body.

"If you come with me to the village, you must wear that."

Ryou's eyes had lit up at the prospect of going to the village; his father always told the greatest stories about the folk there. "You're gonna take us to the village?!"

His father smiled warmly at his excitement. "Perhaps."

Ryou's eyes continued to gleam with excitement, but then a thought dawned on him and he asked, "Why do I have to wear it, anyways?"

"Because it is inappropriate for a boy your age to walk around naked amongst other people," his father explained, his eyes averted to the ground.

Ryou nodded in exaggerated understanding.

"You must also wear a wig."

He was confused by this; he liked his hair. He thought it was neat and unique, the thought of covering it was unappealing. "Why a wig?"

"Because... other people wouldn't understand."

His father never elaborated further.

* * *

Ryou snapped awake. He frowned, feeling doleful at the dream he had – though it was more of a memory. He had been having a lot of those recently, and it made him uneasy. A slight whimper escaped him as he nestled up against his brother's side. He knew he would be scolded for being scared and upset by his dream, but he couldn't help it.

"Bakura..?"

His brother grumbled in response and turned his gaze to his brother. He had never been asleep.

Ryou buried his face into the dirt-coated sleeve of his brother's tunic and sniffled. "I had another dream about Abbi."

He heard a scoff come from the elder. "Don't be so weak, Ryou. Crying about it isn't going to bring him back, you know."

"I-I know... but I can't help it," Ryou wrapped his arms around Bakura, ignoring the disgruntled noises that resulted in the gesture. "I miss him."

"Ryou, you're a boy. Boys don't cry."

A silence stretched between them as Ryou cried into his brother's sleeve. He knew boys his age didn't cry – at age nine, he was nearly considered a man – but he couldn't keep the tears from escaping him, nor the whimpers from bubbling up his throat.

An arm slithered around his lithe form and roughly patted his shoulder in an attempt to comfort. Ryou looked up from the stained tunic, red-faced, as Bakura kept his stoic expression masked across his features. His brother gave him no recognition other than the arm secured around his frail shoulders. The youth smiled softly and nestled himself against his brother's side, slipping his eyes closed.

Ryou felt absolutely uneasy with their surroundings; they were under a broken crate. His toes were frozen, and the cold night winds were barely broken by the rotting wood that made up their shelter. Still, the boy felt better with his brother next to him.

His smile remained on his face as he slipped into a light doze.

__

* * *

Like every morning, he slept past Ra's awakening. He was a heavy sleeper, and he enjoyed remaining in a comatose state for as long as possible. In fact, he probably would have slept the whole morning away if not for...

"Ryou! Ryou! Mut[2] says it's time to wake up!"

He peeled his eyes open to see the beaming face of a young girl. There was a gap between her front teeth as she grinned at her sleepy brother.

"Come on! You hafta help make clean up after breakfast since you slept in!"

"Okay, Amane."

He whined, though he had expected this punishment; he got it just about every morning. He peeled his body off the mat and yawned. Apparently his face was funny when he did, because the girl began giggling.

Their hut was already buzzing with activity. It was curious how he even managed to sleep through his mother putting together breakfast, his brother being obnoxious and his father constantly walking in and out of the main room. He scratched at his body as he accepted some bread and water from his mother. He scarfed it with zealous, enjoying the way it felt on his stomach.

He then cleaned up after his messy siblings and helped his mother tidy. Before he retreated outside to play, his mother beckoned him closer. She smiled and passed him a small cup of goat's milk, which he eagerly drank. Milk was a treat since they only had two milking goats and a family of five. He thanked her before racing outside to find his brother and sister.

As usual, Bakura was terrorizing Amane. He was jumping out from a rock while wailing loudly, causing Amane to jump with fright and tumble to the ground. She laid in the dust, her recently cleaned shendi filthy now, and glared at her older brother.

"Not funny, Bakura!"

He cackled and raced off while shouting, "It so was!"

Ryou smiled and went to her kid sister. He squatted down next to her, a playful smirk gracing his lips. "You wanna get Bakura back?"

Amane, who had been quivering and frowning, instantly brightened at his words. "Yeah!"

* * *

"Are you sure there's food here?"

"Shhh!"

Ryou frowned and clenched his grumbling belly. It had been a whole two days since they had those onions, and he was starving. After much persisting (complaining) he finally convinced (annoyed) his brother into making another attempt at getting some food without stealing it. Ryou, despite his hunger, didn't support his brother stealing their meager meals.

However, Ryou wasn't very convinced they would find food here. It was an abandoned remains of a hut on the outskirts of the city, and it had obviously already been picked clean by beggars. Still, the elder wasn't deterred as he picked through the rubble. Ryou hovered near what was once the entrance to the hut, shuffling his feet in the sand and stone.

"Come on and help me, or you aren't getting anything I find."

Ryou's stomach grumbled at the prospect of going without food any longer, so he walked into the crumbled stones and picking through them. It was hard work for his young and frail body; he could barely lift the stones that were half the size of his cranium. As he looked around, he only found ragged clothes and broken pots. Some rats scuffled out from some of the unturned stones, startling Ryou into nearly falling.

"I don't like this," he complained as he kicked a piece of a broken pot.

"Tough," Bakura grumbled harshly, obviously not up for Ryou's bellyaching.

He knew he had to help his brother, but the task of picking through stones was so grueling and difficult, he wasn't sure how long he could keep it up. The harsh Egyptian sun beat overhead, making his blood boil and his skin fry. His mind began to feel fuzzy and light; he wondered if he was going to get heat exhaustion at this point. Normally during midday, they would be resting in some shade, not out lifting stones. Ryou yearned for the days where the most work he had to do was feed the animals and help his mother in the field.

Though working in their field was hard work, he usually did it with Mut, who helped make a game of it. She would also share old wife's tales and stories of the Gods, distracting him from the many tasks that he had to do to maintain the crops. With all the games and story-telling, it hardly seemed like work to him, but rather a time to bond with his mother.

But his brother needed him to help. He bit back a complaint and continued to work, only to be startled by a sudden crash.

"Bakura!"

Ryou's voice was horrified as he practically swam through the rocks to get to his brother, who had collapsed lifelessly onto a pile of stones. He panicked as he tried to grab Bakura's body, which lay lifelessly against the dusty ground.

After a horrifying moment, Bakura gave a weak grunt and peeled his eyes open. Ryou breathed a sigh of relief.

"I told you boys don't cry," His brother grumbled as managed to sit up. Ryou winced; the simple task looked as if it was difficult. He then pressed his fingers to his eyes, feeling the beginnings of tears.

"I thought you were dead! What happened?"

"All I did was pass out."

Ryou was sick with worry. "We should get you out of the sun –"

"No!" Bakura hissed and shoved his brother off of him. "We need to look for food in this pile of rubbish, because somebody doesn't want to steal it."

Ryou looked away guiltily; he knew better than to argue, even if he wanted to. He got up and went back to work, but he kept a close eye on his brother, who was now shaking.

In the end, they only found a piece of discarded moldy bread. Ryou almost downed it right away, but Bakura ripped it from his hands, flung it to the ground, then stepped on it with his heel. He then growled that they would not to sink so low as to eat food that had obviously gone bad, that it was bad enough they had to search for scraps like a couple of mangy rats.

Ryou knew this was his fault; he insisted they not steal.

Even if he was starving, he wouldn't steal from other people. His father had been very adamant on telling them that thievery was bad, and Ryou took that to heart.

* * *

__

The two kept their distance from their brother. It took a lot of plotting and planning, but the two had come up with the perfect revenge. The two children cackled as they moved in. Alone, Ryou was always very meek, but her spunky younger sister always gave him confidence to do things he would never consider doing.

Bakura had went to the river that evening to bathe. The two knew that Bakura resented the water, and didn't even wade in the shallows to wash. He simply took a cloth and wiped his own body down while standing only ankle-high.

Ryou and Amane were crouching in the reeds, watching Bakura approach the bank. He seemed unsuspecting of his siblings as he took of his shendi and dipped the ragged cloth into the river. In the dwindling light of dusk, the two younger siblings easily moved in without being spotted.

Ryou mouthed a countdown to his little sister before the two burst from the reeds, screaming and waving their arms.

Bakura cried out, startled, and fell into the river with a loud splash. Both Ryou and Amane exploded into laughter, daring not to go closer to the drenched Bakura who was pulling himself from the muddy shallows.

He panted, still appearing to be afraid, before his eyes focused on Amane and Ryou. He then darkened and pounced up, "Why did you do that?!"

"That was for scaring me earlier!" Amane laughed before she turn and ran, followed quickly by Ryou, then by an angry, wet, naked Bakura.

A string of curses that shouldn't be spoken by any nine year old escaped Bakura's mouth as he chased the two of them around the muddy reeds. This only made the whole situation funnier; Amane was screeching with laughter while Ryou had a wide grin plastered across his features.

The two ran into the shallows of the river and stopped to catch their breath. Bakura hesitated on the bank, looking as if he were debating whether it was worth wetting himself further just for the sake of punishing his siblings for getting him so drenched in the first place. He took some tentative steps into the river, only to hiss and retreat as Amane made a gutsy move and splashed some water at him.

The two giggled as they watched Bakura seethe on the bank, looking much like an unhappy, sodden feline.

"Get over here so I can teach you a lesson!" Bakura growled, clenching his fists and glaring daggers.

"Never!" The two siblings chirped. The elder of the three then lost his patience and ran into the river, ignoring his dislike of the liquid for the sake of catching his siblings. The two weren't ready for this and yelled out in fright, retreating down river to avoid their livid brother.

They continued this game of cat and mouse until Ryou suddenly stopped, noticing the sky. "We need to go home. Mut will have supper waiting."

Bakura finally managed to make it to his brother. He punched him lightly in the shoulder, "I'm eating your serving."

"But I'm hungry!"

"Yeah well, you shouldn't have pushed me into the river."

"I didn't push you. We scared you into falling."

"Pushed!"

The two brothers bickered as they raced towards their hut. Amane was a pace or two behind them, giggling openly at their banter. When she stopped. Ryou cast a quick glance back at her, raising his brow curiously. She was staring out at the horizon, a look of concern on her normally carefree features.

Ryou stopped as well. "What is it?"

"There's... fire."

Ryou looked. Sure enough, against the darkening horizon, there was a flickering glow. His eyes widened and he wondered what it could mean. Perhaps it was a caravan daring to travel at night...?

"We should go tell Mut," He said, concerned.

Bakura scoffed, "Who cares what it is? I'm hungry. Stop gawking and let's go get supper."

Amane seemed okay with the prospect of eating and forgot about her inquiry, however Ryou was still uneasy...

* * *

Ryou woke, once again, in the early hours of the morning. Ra had yet to awaken when he heard the voices. Flecks of fire and light, broken by the silhouettes of men, appeared down the alley. His heart raced as memories surfaced, but he didn't feel fear until he heard what the men were saying.

" _Are you sure they had white hair?_ "

" _I told you, one of them had white hair, but the other one was obviously wearing a wig._ "

" _And you saw them in this area?_ "

" _Yes..._ "

His heart pounded in his chest as he turned to Bakura, who was sleeping against him. He shook him by the shoulder and whispered loudly, "Bakura, we need to get out of here."

Bakura didn't even stir.

"Bakura? There are bad men coming."

No answer.

"B-Bakura?" Ryou's worry grew. His tone grew more frantic as he shook his brother's shoulders. "Bakura, come on, wake up!"

" _Shh! Wait! I hear something coming from this direction._ "

Ryou whimpered and shook his brother harder. There were tears forming in the corners of his eyes. "Bakura wake up! Don't be dead! Don't be dead! Please!"

" _Yeah, I hear it too, this way!_ "

The youth was scared as he tried to open his brother's eyes, only to receive no response. "Bakura! BAKURA!"

" _There! I see them!_ "

Ryou cried out as a cruel slab of a hand grabbed him by the arm and yanked him away from his brother, who slumped lifelessly without support.

"NO! Let go!" He was hysterical as he tried to get away from the arms that were so much stronger than his meek body. He shook as men – soldiers – swarmed around them. They were big, meaty man with large weapons on their persons, raging from spears to swords. One of them scooped his brother's limp body up with ease.

"These can't be the offspring of the _Thief King_... they're pathetically scrawny and as pale as a bone."

"They're probably bastard sons."

Ryou paid little attention to the men's bickering. He was staring in horror at his brother who was being held up by his hair. Fear of these scary men kept his mouth shut, even if he desperately wanted to shout at the soldier to not hold his brother in such a careless and disrespecting manner.

One of the soldiers turned to a scruffy looking merchant, whom Ryou realized was Bakura and his pursuer from a couple day ago. He was eagerly received some kind of reward – something gold, no doubt, judging by the shiny glimpse Ryou got as it was placed in the merchant's grimy hands.

"Alright, let's go. They can join the rest of the cargo the soldier commanded, his eyes and voice full of authority.

Ryou suddenly found himself being dragged from the alley he and his brother had been sheltering in. He cried out and began to writhe desperately; fear of his own life was fueling his fight or flight instinct – and his instinct was telling him flight. He had to run and to hide – these men were bad and scary.

But he couldn't leave his brother. His poor brother, who was limp in the rough hands of the soldier ahead of him.

"Don't!" He cried out, "Don't treat him like that!"

Suddenly, the air was knocked out of him as he was kicked to the ground. The soldier that had been handling him growled at his discarded form, "Quiet, hayawan! Didn't your father teach you to respect your superiors?"

Ryou coughed violently before he was hoisted into the air again. His body hurt terribly, so struggling was becoming more and more difficult. His movements became sluggish.

It wasn't long before they exited the alley. It was then that Ryou was forced to the ground again. A knee pressed into his back as his hands were twisted behind him and tied together with a rough rope. The body lifted off of him and pulled him harshly from the ground. Ryou whimpered, finding his arms to be tied.

They were also tying his brother's arms. Ryou cried out when they threw his body to the ground, "Don't hurt him! He's already sick!"

"Keep your mouth shut, boy."

The soldier smacked the back of his head as he said this, causing him to fumble to the ground. The man watched, a cruel sneer on his face, as Ryou wriggled around in the sand in a desperate attempt to get to his feet. His head was pounding, his vision distorted. He looked like a fish out of water as he writhed in the dirt. His pathetic attempts to stand were obviously amusing, because the soldiers began to scoff and snicker.

Fresh tears prickled in Ryou's eyes as he gave up and laid on the ground. The man took this as a signal to grab him by the hair and hoist him onto one of the awaiting horses. He threw him stomach-first across the beast's shoulders, as if he were nothing more than a sack of rotten vegetables.

Ryou watched them throw Bakura in the same manner – if not a bit harsher – onto another horse. He stared in desperation, praying for his brother to wake and figure a way out of this.

He wasn't even sure if his brother was alive anymore. The thought made him whimper again; he couldn't afford to lose another family member; he still wasn't over Mut, Abbi and Amane.

"B-Bakura...! Wake up!" He begged, earning another slap from the man.

"The next time you talk, I won't hesitate to gag you."

When the man said this, he screamed and writhed around, startling the horse.

"NO! BAKURA! WAKE UP!"

His sobbing and begging and shaking made the horse begin to move around in a panicked manner. The soldiers attempted to calm it down, bringing even more anxiety to the poor animal. The horse heaved itself into the air, bucking its front hooves out as the soldiers grabbed for its reins. Ryou cried out as he tumbled off the horse. As he hit the ground, agony spiked throughout his head and blackness overcame him within moments.

* * *

_Smoke filled every orifice. Ryou cried out, desperately trying to spot his parents through the thick haze that blanketed his vision._

"Mut? Abbi?!"

The only replies were more screams. Ryou whimpered and pressed himself against the floor, fear and panic ripping through him. He knew the scream had come from his mother, who was somewhere outside the hut. He couldn't make out his father's voice or form anywhere within the hut; most of the building was being consumed by fire. Their food, their furniture, their mats were all becoming lost to the flames.

It had all happened so quickly, Ryou's head was still spinning. They had been eating dinner, chuckling and talking amongst one another. He had forgotten all about the fire he had seen in the distance, his thoughts replaced instead with freshly made bread and stew.

And then the sound of horse hooves. Cruel voices spouting curses that his mother told him never to utter. His father's gaze snapped to attention, his eyes gleaming with fear. Ryou barely had time to think before a flickering arrow whisked through the open window, setting everything in the hut aflame. He felt the arms of his father around him, steering him away from the lapping flames. He was flung onto the ladder up to the loft.

"Hide. Do not make a sound. Do not come out no matter what."

Ryou had heeded those words and scrambled over to his parent's bed, hiding under the blankets and trying to stifle his sobs. He had prayed to the Gods to protect his father and the rest of his family from the bad men outside the hut.

The ladder creaked. Ryou peeked out from the blankets, seeing a shadow of a man against the flickering fire. He chocked on a sob and withdrew under the blanket, praying for a miracle.

His blanket was ripped off of him, and his brother's voice filled his ears, "Come on, get up, we need to leave."

Ryou looked up at Bakura, his face tear-stained, "A-abbi told me not to leave."

"Forget him."

Bakura grabbed him by the arm and heaved him to his feet. Ryou continued to cough and sob as his brother practically dragged him across the loft, down the ladder and through the back door. The journey had only been a few moments, but Ryou's whole body felt burnt and sore. He was shaking when they made it out into the cold night air, but his brother didn't give him a break as he was guided away from the hut.

"Where's Mut? Where's Abbi?" Ryou whimpered, clenching his brother's arm. He wanted the comfort of his parents; he was scared, and he needed to know they were safe.

But the words his brother spoke made the pit of his stomach go cold

"Dead."

* * *

He obviously wasn't out cold for very long; as Ryou peeled his eyes open, he found himself laying across the shoulders of the horse just like before. A soldier sat behind him, guiding the mount through the city. His whole head hurt – no – throbbed; just having his eyes open was painful. A whimper escaped his dry throat as he looked around his surroundings.

"Go back to sleep boy, or more trouble will come for you."

The man's tone was bitterly unsympathetic, and it only made Ryou want to cry more. He sniffed quietly and looked away from the cruel man. He searched around for his brother, and felt relief when he saw him on the other horse. Though he was still unconscious – or dead.

"Bakura?" He whispered, then winced; using his throat hurt terribly. He was parched. He looked to the soldier now and gulped. Abbi had always told him there was goodness in people, perhaps there was goodness in this man. Perhaps he was cruel because his job demanded it – perhaps, on the inside, he was a kind person, with a loving wife and children.

"E-excuse me? _Efendim_ [3]?" He struggled to speak. The man looked down at him, his eyes glittering with animosity and annoyance.

"I-I'm really thirsty... could I have something to drink?"

All the soldiers scoffed and snickered at the question, making Ryou redden and regret ever asking. The man on the horse grinned – though the expression wasn't particularly friendly.

"Go ahead and give him something to drink."

Suddenly, a flask was forced into his mouth. Something rancid and bitter slid down his throat, causing him to gurgle and sputter. He choked the mysterious liquid back up and proceeded to cough repetitively.

All of the man laughed through his choking. The flask was thankfully removed, but Ryou was left there in pain and discomfort. He looked over to his brother, finding relief in his expressionless, lifeless features. More tears began to appear behind his eyes, and he found himself silently crying, thankful he was being ignored now by the men; they would surely taunt him for shedding tears.

Boys didn't cry. Men didn't cry.

But he did.

What did that make him?

A startled yell erupted through the air, startling Ryou from his sorrowful brooding. He turned his head to the noise just in time to see the man on the horse in front of them suddenly slither lifelessly to the ground, a pool of crimson seeping out from under him. The man on his horse grabbed the reins tightly, struggling to control the startled beast.

"What happened?!"

"Watch out!"

"Draw your weapons!"

Shouts and commands surrounded him as the soldiers jumped into action. Swords were unsheathed, spears were raised. The men were ready for whatever threat had just slain their fellow soldier. Or at least, they assumed they were ready. Suddenly another terrorized screech cut through the air as another man fell forward, a knife that came seemingly from nowhere lodged right in his back. The skilled force went unseen as more and more of the soldiers fell, dying before they even had a chance to defend themselves. The men were obviously growing scared as their gazes darted to a fro, trying to make out their invisible enemy in the darkness.

The soldier on the horse jumped off the horse and grabbed Ryou, holding him roughly at his side as he raised his sword to seemingly nothing. "Show yourself! I know it's you Thief King!"

There was a cackle. It was dark and sultry as it echoed along the streets, through the alleys, and into the night sky. With a spatter of blood, a knife was suddenly lodged into his jugular. Ryou whimpered in fright and took a step back. The cruel soldier sputtered, cursing the man in front of him before slipping lifelessly to the ground, the dagger sliding out of his throat with a sickening noise.

With the soldier dead, Ryou was now face-to-face with their mysterious attacker. He was a massive man in crimson, sharp, gray eyes gleaming dangerously beneath a head-dress. A smirk was plastered against his scarred face. It seemed to raise as he watched the man bleed to death at his feet.

Ryou mewled in fright and stumbled backwards, falling onto his rear. The strange man watched him for a moment before stepping over the soldier and walking towards him.

The boy cried out and tried to scoot backwards, but it was futile as the man easily caught up with his weak body. The man bent over, pushing Ryou onto his stomach. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook, expecting a blade to cut into the back of his neck, ultimately ending his life at the meager age of nine...

Until he felt his arms loosen. The man had released him of his binds. Ryou sat up and rubbed his wrists, looking up at the man with pure awe. The look he got in return was a stoic expression that reminded him so much of his brother...

_Bakura!_

When he was reminded of his brother, all fear for the man in red left him as he jumped up and ran past his attacker – no, savior. At some point during the attack, Bakura had fallen off the horse that was nowhere to be seen. He laid motionless in the dust, his broken and lifeless form making Ryou cry out in worry.

The boy knelt next to his brother and shook his dusty shoulders. "Brother! Wake up! Come on, the bad men are dead!"

Of course, he got no response. His brother didn't even show the slightest signs of life, making Ryou tear up once more. He continued shaking him, hoping that he would see a pair of angry irises stare up at him.

His red savior suddenly appeared noiselessly next to him, crouching down so he was able to reach his fallen brother.

"Don't hurt him!" Ryou begged, his doe eyes wide and blurry with tears.

The man's expression remained flat as he took the lifeless Bakura in his arms and tossed him over his shoulder. He then stood, turned, and began disappearing down an alleyway, his brother in tow.

Ryou watched, wide-eyed, before he jumped up and raced after him.

* * *

_Dead? Dead...? Their mother, their beautiful, lovely, sweet, kind mother dead?_

"You're lying!" Ryou cried, trying to yank his arm from the iron grip his brother had on his arm. "Mut says you shouldn't lie!"

"She's dead, Ryou! Now shut your mouth! Those men are still around!"

Ryou barely heard him. He quivered, fresh tears welling up from his already-blurry eyes. He allowed himself to be dragged, whimpering all the while. Bakura remained quiet as he pulled Ryou away from their hut, their home, and out into the desert.

They walked for what seemed like forever. Ryou's sobs eventually turned to sniffles and quiet whimpers. Bakura went from dragging to allowing Ryou to hold onto his hand. Ryou knew his brother hated it, but right now, he didn't care. His whole body was in agony; his skin felt hot and dirty. His new tunic was coated with smoke and soot, his throat was parched, his eyes were dry...

But worst of all, their home had been destroyed, and their family was nowhere to be found. He took to clenching Bakura's hand each time that thought flitted through his mind.

"A-are we going to the village?"

Bakura didn't answer.

"Are we going to meet A-abbi out here? Or Mut?"

Silence.

"I-I hope they made it out okay... We need to find them, Bakura –"

Bakura yanked his hand away, whipped around, and screamed, "Shut up! SHUT UP! Don't you understand? They're dead! Mut is dead, and so is Abbi, and so is Amane! I wasn't lying when I told you they were gone, Ryou! Get it through your head; THEY'RE DEAD!"

Ryou winced as if he had been struck. He then took a step back, disbelieving. "I-I don't believe you..."

"Well you better, because I'm speaking the truth!" Bakura was snarling viciously. "They're dead, Ryou, and we're on our own. So shut your mouth and stop crying like a baby!"

"B-but..."

"There are no buts, Ryou! They're gone! GONE!"

He snapped and burst into tears. "NO They can't be gone!" He whipped around and began running in the direction he though their hut was.

He was roughly grabbed by the tunic, effectively ripping the fabric. "Stop! You're going to get yourself killed if you go back, idiot!"

Ryou yanked at his arm, wailing at his brother, "They aren't dead! We're going to go back and they'll be there!"

"Their bodies will, if they haven't been burned! Ryou, they're DEAD! I saw them DIE!" Bakura was shaking as he clenched tighter onto Ryou's arm. "They beheaded all of them... even Amane..."

Ryou's blood ran cold. "A-amane..."

"We need to leave, Ryou."

"..."

"Before they catch up with us."

"..."

"Come on."

Ryou slid down to his knees, his arm slipping from Bakura's grasp. He hunched over, his fingers digging into the sand as began sobbing again. He sobbed for his family, who were now all dead. He sobbed for his mother, his father, and his sister... his sister who had only recently turned six...

He'll never know their company ever again... Never to see his mother's smile, enjoy his sister's laugh, or hear his father's stern yet loving tone. Tears spilled from his eyes, moans left his parched throat until he started coughing and choking. Saliva, that turned gray from smoke-inhalation, sputtered out from his mouth as coughs tore violently through his weak body.

They're dead.

They're all dead.

"B-bakura..." Ryou wailed as he buried his face in his hands, "W-what are we going to do...?"

There was a long silence before Bakura answered, his voice hard with determination.

"Survive."


	2. Chapter 2

Ryou bring himself to relax and rest like he should have been; he felt faint and his body begged for sleep, yet his eyes remained open. The Man In Red had been his savior, but he couldn't help the fear that still gripped his chest as he watched the man from afar. He was torn between remaining in what was the only place where he felt somewhat comfortable – a dark corner near the exit, unnoticed – or investigate what the man was doing to his brother.

He had brought jars and linens over to the low bed in which Bakura had been placed on. For a man that had killed so smoothly and professionally, he was being unexpectedly gentle as he tended to the boy. 

Ryou pulled his knees closer to his chest, watching the man's every move with suspicion. He had no right to feel this way; the man had saved him from whatever ill fate those bad men had planned for him and his brother. Ryou's innocent mind couldn't even begin to conjure up the kinds of punishments that could have befallen him and his brother.

After the bad men had been killed by his red savior, Ryou found himself following him like a blind sheep. The man had moved swiftly through the city, Bakura's limp body nestled in his arms. Ryou said nothing, for he had made the decision to stay his tongue; speaking felt too dangerous. He followed diligently, despite his sickening worry and aching body. He had stumbled many times due to fatigue, but he forced himself to keep moving, to keep following this strange man. 

They had eventually left the main part of the city and to the outskirts, where he and his brother had always avoided. There were mad men here, as well as beggars. Ryou found himself drifting closer to the man that held his brother as he saw the gleaming eyes of men who were sick in the mind. Their frail bodies slithered from the shadows, moving weakly through the streets, even at night.

Ryou felt unsafe when Ra was set; the dark expansion of the night sky was ominous. His guide seemed completely at ease as he moved about the night; his steps had been confident and quick, making it difficult for Ryou to keep up.

Eventually, their journey had come to an end when he arrived at a pile of ruins. It looked like it had once been a marvelous tower, but had been long since forgotten. The beautiful, artistic walls had become rubble. The stone floor became nothing more than a layer of cold sand. The man had guided Ryou around some large boulders and broken walls before he seemingly disappeared under the ground. Upon closer inspection, Ryou had found a hole amongst all the discarded, weather-worn stones. 

Their host didn't explain where they were as they slipped into the main chamber. Ryou had expected something cold and dank, but instead found a small yet marvelous room. Each corner shimmered with golds and jewels – more than Ryou had ever seen. The walls were lined with tables, each surface covered in different treasures. The scones on the walls flickered, their light causing everything in the room shimmer beautifully. 

Ryou's breath had been taken away. While he had marveled the room, the man had laid Bakura onto the bed near the far wall. Ryou's awe of the room diminished quickly, his anxiety returning. He had followed this man – this murderer – into his very own lair. He could easily have just as bad as intentions as those men that had taken them, or the men that had slain his family.

Realizing his stupidity, he had fearfully retreated into the closest corner and squatted down, where he was presently. He hadn't moved since they arrived who knows how long ago. His tired limbs felt sore and stiff. He was sure the sun had risen by now, but he had yet to get sleep; he was too restless and frightened. He could only sit on the cold stone and watch this man – this murderer – tend to his brother. 

By now, Ryou was sure his brother was alive, or else this man wouldn't have lugged him through the city, nor wouldn't have been tending to him currently. Yet, he was still distressed; his poor brother was so weak he couldn't even regain consciousness. The smallest whimper escaped his chapped lips and he broke eye contact with the man to dig his face into his knees in an attempt to keep his tears at bay. 

He remained like this until he heard movement come from across the room. His gaze snapped up in time to see his host walk away from his brother. Ryou scrambled out of his hiding spot, doing his best to make as little noise as possible, and darted over to his brother. 

His tunic had been removed at some point so the stranger could tend to him. Ryou gasped, seeing for the first time what an awful shape his brother was in. 

Each and every rib was visible. His stomach was sunken in to the point where Ryou was sure there was no room for organs. Each and every rib was pushing against his peaked skin. He cried out and snatched his brother's hand, noticing for the first time how light it felt and how boney the fingers were. 

Somehow, Ryou found more tears to shed.

“Here.”

The boy jumped nearly a foot and whipped around like a startled feline. The stranger stood right next to him – Ryou didn't even notice his approach. He gulped, staring up and down the man's body before noticing he was holding out a clay jug. With a shaking and hesitant grasp, he took the jug.

“Drink.”

He stared at the piece of pottery. He moved it around, hearing a slosh. Excitement filled him as he put the jug to his lips, eagerly drinking the liquid that met his dry mouth – 

It took all his willpower not to spit the liquid back up. He sputtered as it dribbled down his chin, but he forced himself to swallow it anyway before he shoved the jug back at the man.

“It's beer, kid. Haven't you ever had it before?”

Ryou shrunk away and sheepishly shook his head. He never had an interest for beer; he preferred water and milk. Even when his father offered it to him, he refused. The man gave a grumble and left, returning with a different jug. He roughly shoved it at Ryou. “Drink this then. But not too much of it. I don't have a lot and I hate making trips to the well.”

This time when Ryou drank, his pallet sung. Even if the water was warm and stagnant, it felt wonderful on his dry throat. He could have drunk forever, but he steeled himself and only allowed a couple gulps before returning the jug to the man. He then turned his attention back to his brother.

“He's weak, but he should survive.”

Ryou remained quiet, though he looked to the side in the man's direction with a curious expression.

The man sighed. “I said he should survive. The fact he's still alive is a miracle. Once he wakes, he'll be able to eat and get some meat on his bones.”

Ryou perked at the mention of food, though he tried to hide it; he didn't want to seem rude, even in his state of starvation.

The man seemed to notice anyway as the slightest smirk tugged at his lips. “I bet you're hungry, kid. You don't look much better off than he does.”

Ryou gave a sheepish nod and looked at the ground, feeling ashamed to be reliant on this murderer for both his brother's recovery and for his own basic survival needs. Ryou remained latched to his brother even as the mysterious man walked away again. He returned the jug to its place before he turned to one of the many baskets. He slipped his hand inside and pulled out something Ryou was sure he had never seen before. 

Though as he got closer, and Ryou got a better look, his eyes widened.

Meat!

He had only had meat a few rare times in his life. As nothing more than common farmers, his family could never afford to trade enough things to get meat. Whenever one of their animals died, their father usually took the meat to town, since he could get plenty of good things for it. A few times though, he prepared it and they would feast on jerky for days. 

His mouth watered at the memory. His hunger got the better of his manners as he snatched the jerky from the large palms of the man and shoved it down his gullet, barely having time to chew. Salty, smoky flavors blanketed his tongue. It was the most delicious thing to have ever traveled down his throat, even better that the bitter onion from a few days ago. He quickly shoved all of the strips in his mouth, until they were all gone. He looked at his empty hands before docilely looking up at the man, ashamed of what he had done.

If anything, he seemed somewhat amused by Ryou's appetite. He left once more, and Ryou, feeling guilty of his behavior, shrunk back. He slipped onto the edge of the bed next to his brother, still holding his hand and staring down at his sickly form.

“How long has he gone without food?”

The husky voice of the elder man startled him. He hesitated before shrugging; he really didn't know how long it had been since his brother had eaten. Days? Weeks..? Now that he thought about it he hadn't seen Bakura eat for a long time. The few times they had managed to find some food, Bakura had given his serving to his brother...

Ryou's stomach suddenly dropped as realization hit him.

This was his fault.

His brother was sick because he had given all his food to Ryou. He let out a cry and brought his brother's hand up to his face. His skin felt cold against his tear-stained cheek, only making him cry harder. If his brother died, it would surely be his fault.

“Oh, Bakura, why did you feed me instead of yourself...” Ryou whispered desperately. He didn't expect an answer, but he still wept at his brother's continued silence.

…

Throughout most of the day, Ryou was rooted to the same spot next to Bakura. Even when his eyelids threatened to close, when his muscles stiffened with his position, when he needed to answer the call of nature, he didn't move. He didn't want to leave his brother's side.

Eventually, fearing he would wet himself, he struggled to his aching feet. He gently set Bakura's arm down next to his body and padded across the underground room. He wasn't entirely sure where to go, so he headed through the open doorway and up the long staircase. He was met with the sun and its warmth as he left the chamber, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Being underground didn't suit him; he was used to the open desert, broken only by large boulders and the churning river. 

He walked away from the rubble that surrounded the crack in the ground that led to the chamber. He then relieved himself on some sand once he was sure he wouldn't be caught and get in trouble for not using the designated relief area, wherever it may have been. 

Once he was done, he made his way back to the opening in the ground, but not before taking in more of the surroundings. They weren't too far from the city; it could still be seen in the near distance. Where he was standing looked as if it had once been a marvelous building, perhaps even an elaborate tomb, but Ryou couldn't be sure, and he wasn't planning on asking.

Ryou slipped into the hole and padded down into the darkness. He felt uneasy as shadows began swirling around him, blocking the little sun that managed to stream down the stairwell. 

“Lay back down kid, before you hurt yourself,” Scoffed a familiar, gruff voice.

He heard Bakura's voice curse in a low tone. Ryou's heart soared as he threw himself down the remaining stairs and ran into the cluttered chamber. His brother was standing – or rather wobbling – right next to the bed, his garnet eyes blazing with anger.

“Bakura!”

Bakura turned to see his brother. Some relief came to his otherwise livid eyes, but he still looked ruffled. He turned back to the man, who had stepped closer.

“Get away from me!”

Sensing trouble, Ryou rushed over to his brother's side and tugged at his arm, desperately attempting to calm him. He knew that if his brother continued talking like this, they could easily be killed. “Bakura, no! This man saved us!”'

“Saved us? From what?! We were doing just fine.”

Ryou rapidly shook his head. “No! S-something happened...,” he then began to elaborate on the events of the previous night, not sparing any details.

“And... and you didn't wake up, even when we were brought here...” Ryou finished, more tears filling his eyes. “I was so worried I thought you were going to die! Why did you let yourself starve, Bakura? Why did you give all your food to me?”

Bakura scoffed and weakly shoved Ryou away. “It's because your so damn weak. Maybe if you stopped crying and manned up for once, I wouldn't have to feed you.”

Suddenly, his brother wavered. His legs crumpled under him and he fumbled to the stone floor with a string of feeble curses. Ryou cried out and knelt near his body. “Bakura?!”

He got grumbled in response. “My body is almost as weak as yours...” He looked up at the man, who had remained quiet through all this.

“You have a lot of food. Give me some.”

The man's eye twitched. Ryou squeaked when he threw his arm down and forced Bakura to his feet by grabbing one boney arm. He raised him into the air, his face twisted in rage.

“Listen, boy. I don't take orders from anybody. Especially insolent brats. In fact, now that you're awake, you can take your leave.” He then threw Bakura carelessly to the floor, his eyes dark with malice.

Bakura gave a few coughs and shot their host a vicious glare.

“I don't want to stay in this dump anyway.” 

But the process of actually getting up was something that Bakura simply could no achieve in his state. Each time Ryou reached to help him, he got smacked and shoved. It took several minutes for him to even get up, and once he was up, he could only succeed in walking a few more feet.

Watching his older twin go through this was too much for young Ryou to bare. His body quivered with emotion as he turned towards their host, who was back in his corner, watching the whole scene with cold, hooded eyes. Ryou couldn't handle this. The thought of going back out their so soon, the threat of being captured again hanging over his head constantly, the possibility of starving to death, of losing his brother to the harsh elements, it was too much. He broke as he closed his hands into fists, tears prickling his eyes once more.

“Please, efendim, don't cast us out,” Ryou pleaded weakly, “We... we can't survive out there. We've barely been able to in the weeks since we started looking after ourselves. We barely eat, we sleep in the cold, we're always tired and hungry and thirsty and nobody cares! Nobody cares! T-they just look at us like we're diseased. Like we don't matter. Like it doesn’t matter that we're on our own because our parents –“

“ – Shut your mouth Ryou!”

“ – because our parents were killed. And our sister. We'll never seen them again. We'll never see our home again, or our farm,” He had begun to weep, his voice wavering with anguish. “P-please let us stay. At least until Bakura can walk! He can't even make it out of this chamber, how do you expect us to survive out in the world?! The c-cruel world...” the boy broke down, tears and mucus smearing all over his face.

By now, Bakura had struggled to his feet. He launched his weakened body at Ryou. He was snarling as he grabbed roughly onto his brother's tunic, “You idiot! We do NOT beg! I told you we will never beg!”

“B-but –“

“ – No! Shut up! You've spoken enough!” He grabbed roughly onto his brother's arm and attempted to drag him to the exit. Despite his weakened body, he still had a vice grip. 

“Bakura, we can't survive out there!” He managed to snatch his arm away and wail, “We're just kids! Orphans, now! We can't exist in this world without help!”

“We don't need help. I can take care of us just fine.”

“We almost gotten taken away! By the same bad men that killed Abbi and Mut and Amane!”

Bakura quieted for a moment and looked away, his features dark. “I won't let that happen.”

“You can't be sure of that. Look at you! You can barely stand!”

“I'm fine–“

“–Don't give me that!” He yelled as he grabbed and shook his brother's shoulders. “Bakura, what if you die? D-don't... don't leave me alone.”

Instead of shoving his hands off his shoulders like Bakura had a tendency to do, he took them within his own and carefully removed them. He weakly glared down at the ground as he said, “I won't die.”

“...Y-you don't know that...”

“If I was meant to die so young, I would have been killed with the others.” 

Ryou shook his head in despair. “P-please...” He wrapped his arms around his brother and buried his face into his shoulder. “Please...”

“...I told you not to beg.” Bakura murmured as he reached up to give his brother a few shoulder pats. “It makes you look pathetic.”

Ryou sniffled and smiled a little. Bakura looked up at the man, who had been watching them the whole time. 

“If it's... okay with you,” He began begrudgingly, a scowl gracing his lips, “Then we will stay until I can take more than three steps without falling on my ass.”

The man said nothing. Instead, he slowly walked over to a basket, pulled out a piece of jerky and chucked it at Bakura, ignoring the startled curse that escaped the boy as it smacked him in the face.

“Don't eat all my food.” 

He then swept past them and disappeared out the door, leaving them alone in the chamber.

…

“If you stay here, I expect you to work.”

This is what their nameless host had told Ryou. The boy had nodded fervently; he wanted to show his appreciation to the man for letting them stay until Bakura was back on his feet. 

The man had assigned him to a job he was already familiar with; to take care of his horse, Ma'at [1]. It was a large, black beast that towered over the boy of small stature. This horse, unlike his father's frail, chestnut one, was a massive riding horse. The beast's hooves were practically the size of his head. His muscles, like his owner, were taut and rippled under his thin, black coat each time it moved. 

Ryou was intimidated, but he was confident in his abilities to deal with this beast. His family's goat had been a feisty thing; it never let anybody near it without making a move to clamp down on their clothing. Ryou was able to get close to the goat without trouble, however; it tolerated him well and maybe even enjoyed his company.

When the boy had first approached Ma'at, it regarded with with intense, beady eyes. Ryou had felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise as he eased over to the trough, a bundle of hay within his arms. When he came close, the horse suddenly whinnied and swarmed forward. Ryou had squeaked – a pathetic noise, even coming from him – and scrambled away, dropping the hay. He felt lucky the horse was tethered to a pillar that kept it from moving any further.

He thought he had heard laughter while he stood a safe distance away, his chest heaving.

The hardest part of tending to the horse wasn't shoveling feces, but rather getting water. He had to lug buckets to and from the nearby water source, which was a difficult task for a boy as small as he. His delicate arms weren't anything more than beanpoles, causing the task to be incredibly difficult for his weak body. Especially under the hot, Egyptian sun. 

His brother didn't like the fact that their host made Ryou tend to his horse.

“Lazy ass,” Bakura had growled, his arms crossed over his lithe chest. Ryou had simply sighed and shook his head; he didn't mind working to keep their place here while his brother recovered. In fact, if anybody was a “lazy ass”, it was Bakura. 

Their host had spoken only a few times, and each time he did it was a warning.

“ _Do not eat all of the food. Especially the meat._ ”

Bakura had single-handedly went through most of the basket.

“ _Do not drink all of the water. If you do. I am not refilling the jug._ ”

Bakura went through almost the whole jug in one day, forcing Ryou to go out and make a grueling water trip. 

“ _And do not go snooping through my things._ ”

And, of course Bakura couldn't even follow that rule. Despite his weak body, he had still gotten out of bed just to look through their host's treasures, much to Ryou's chagrin. He tried to scold his brother for it, but nothing good ever came from doing that. 

He was worried their host would get angry for what Bakura did, but he seemingly didn't notice, or didn't care. In fact, Ryou saw very little of the man. He was gone all night and day. Whenever he came home, it was usually at noon. He would kick back in a chair and close his eyes for a nap. However, the man was so stiff with his crossed arms and furrowed brows that Ryou didn't think he actually ever went to sleep during these rest periods. 

Ryou found that the man wasn't so bad for a murderer. In fact, he saw his brother in many of the elder's mannerisms; the way he messily ate, the way he slept without relaxing, and the way he spent a majority of his time brooding with a stoic expression. It was actually somewhat amusing, especially when Bakura spoke about how much he hated their host. The two were practically mirrored, though in the end, Ryou decided to keep this to himself. He was sure that if he shared his opinion, he would get smacked. 

When the man wasn't out or napping, he was eating. He ate a lot, and the amount of food he had was seemingly endless. Since it was the beginning of the harvest season, he would would bring baskets brimmed to the top with a variety of fresh food such as onions, garlic radishes and beans. He would also bring vegetables and fruits, though in smaller quantities since most of them couldn't be kept for long periods of time.

…

Ryou thought he was dreaming when, one day, he saw his host's hair. His eyes widened the size of plates when the man removed his head-dress, revealing hair that was so similar to him and brother's. It was long, wild, and the color of a bone.

The man had noticed his staring, snorted, and said mockingly, “It isn't polite to stare.”

Even if it was said jokingly, Ryou had taken it to heart and looked away. He supposed he shouldn't make a big deal of it; his whole family had white hair, after all. It wasn't an oddity to him, simply something that made him and his family unique.

“Is that why you wear a head-dress?” Ryou asked curiously, remembering how his father had told him to wear a wig to hide his hair if he were to ever go to town.

The man didn't answer.

…

One afternoon, when Ryou was done with his chores and sat alongside his brother's sleeping form (Bakura slept quite often these days), the man had come back with grapes. Ryou, loving fruits – especially sweet fruits – practically salivated, but he resisted. Since his brother did most of the eating, he had to keep himself from eating very often.

The man had set the basket down and pulled out a whole garlic clove.. He threw himself on a cushioned mat and viciously dug his teeth into it. Ryou couldn't help but watch. It was certainly strange to eat an entire garlic clove in a single bite... but, their host was a strange man he supposed.

He had glanced up and met Ryou's gaze, to which Ryou jumped and guiltily looked away. He looked ashamed for getting caught blatantly starting. The man frowned, a piece of garlic flecking his lip. He then raised his finger and signaled for Ryou to go over to him. After some hesitation, Ryou swallowed nervously and slipped off the bed and meandered over. He played with his hands as he stopped a comfortable distance away.

“Sit.” 

Ryou did as he was told. Being so close to a murderer made him uneasy, even if this murderer had shown some sort of hospitality to the two orphans. 

The man continued to chew, staring at Ryou with careless eyes. He dug into the basket and pulled out another clove, which he offered to the boy.

Not wanting to be rude, he took it and began to slowly peel the top layer off. The man watched his every move, his eyes not moving from his lithe form. It made Ryou uneasy and self-conscious, causing him to peel even faster, his fingers fumbling. He tore a piece from the glove, and put it in his mouth. His eyes began to water as he chewed the heavily flavored root.

Noticing the boy's discomfort to the food, the man let out a small cackle. 

“Don't like garlic?” He asked as he popped another clove into his mouth, his breath wafting over to meet Ryou's nose. It threatened to curl.

“U-uh... I do, I just don't eat it plain...”

“I figured you wanted it, since you were staring so ravenously at my basket.”

Ryou didn't want to say he had been looking at the grapes, though his eyes flickered to the bunch that hung over the woven edge of the basket. 

The man noticed this and reached into the basket, taking out a bunch of grapes. He held it up, “This what you want, kid?”

After a long hesitation, he nodded shakily. The man tossed the bundle to Ryou, who barely managed to catch it. He plucked a grape off the bunch and tossed it into his mouth. He could have moaned as he broke the grape with his teeth, sweet flavors exploding into his mouth, overcoming the over-bearing taste of garlic. 

Forgetting about the partially-eaten clove, he began popping the grapes into his mouth fervently, moans of approval threatening to spill over his mouth along with flavorful juices. Ryou loved fruits – anything sweet, really – and it had been too long since he had any; such things were an unseen luxury when you were living on the streets. As he sat there with his grapes, he concluded that maybe this murderer couldn't possibly be too untrustworthy.

…

Ryou began to notice their host had grown restless. Instead of resting on his mat, he would pace about the small room, muttering to himself. Ryou would watch him move impatiently to and fro, eventually growing dizzy from his repetitive movements. The polite side of him wanted to ask what was the matter, but he restrained himself and instead contented himself in simply watching.

The sudden anxiety the man brought began to affect Ma'at, Ryou noticed. Over the course of his stay, the horse had grown used to the boy's presence, and just as Ryou predicted, the horse began to warm up to him. 

Ma'at was noticeably uneasy and paced shallow trenches in the sand. The boy shushed him gently as he ran the ragged brush over the beast's hair, earning a slight snort.

“Come on! You loved to be brushed!”

The horse flared its nostrils and repeated the noise. He shook his neck, fluffing out his freshly brushed mane. Ryou stood back and put his hands on his hips as he regarded the animal with exasperation.

“You're making this difficult,” he chided to the animal as he put the brush down near the shovel and bucket. He had already cleaned the area of feces, brought water, and gave him food, though he had yet to eat it. Normally the horse would be done eating before he even finished shoveling (this was another similarity he had with his owner), so Ryou grew worried. 

He then pondered if the horse would like a treat. He smiled warmly at the pacing animal before he headed back to the hole. He slipped down the stairwell and went began digging around in the baskets, managing to find some lettuce, along with a pot of sugar. He grabbed a small wooden plate before he returned the horse shortly. 

Ryou first offered the lettuce, though the horse didn't seem very interested. He gave it a sniff, a snort, and turned away. Ryou scowled, “Come on, now. What about the sugar?” He took the top off the pot and poured a bit onto the plate before nudging it to the horse. Again, the beast seemed disinterested.

The boy gave a sigh of defeat, walked over to a nearby stone, flopped down and began eating the sugar himself. He had yet to eat today, so he eagerly snacked on the sweet substance.

Suddenly, the horse bucked and neighed, startling Ryou. His heart rate excelled as he set the plate and lettuce aside and jumped up, trying to figure out what had bothered the horse. The beast was as brave as his owner, so for something to startle him of course Ryou was worried. He fiddled with his tunic nervously, his eyes anxiously surveying the area for signs of danger.

Leaving the horse to its pacing, Ryou rushed back to the underground chamber, not wanting to risk a confrontation with whatever had spooked the beast. It could be anything from a pack of hyenas to a patrol of soldiers. Given his experience, he would pick hyenas over soldiers any day. He rushed down the stairs, nearly slipping on the cold stones in his haste. 

Bakura was near one of the tables when Ryou sailed in. His brother looked irritated out his loud, clumsy entrance. He looked as if he were about to say something nasty, but he noticed Ryou's obvious distress and instead asked, “What happened?”

Ryou shook his head worriedly, not entirely sure himself. “The horse just began getting upset over something... I just got scared.”

His brother, of course, scoffed and meandered back over to the bed and sat down. His brother looked noticeably better; he had eaten enough for some fat to return to his face and limbs. He was able to leave the chamber to relieve himself (before he had to use a broken pot, which Ryou to empty) and remain awake for most of the day, though he chose to spend the time eating and sleeping.

“What were you doing anyways?” Ryou asked, referring to when Bakura had been standing goalless in the middle of the room.

“None of your business.” 

Ryou narrowed his eyes when he heard a dingle come from beneath Bakura's tunic. “What was –“

“Nothing.”

“But –“

A glare cut him off. Arguing with Bakura was always such a fruitless endeavor. He sighed and flopped back against the bed next to his brother.

“...You stink like horse shit.”

…

It had been the middle of the night when their host burst into the chamber. Ryou hadn't been asleep for once; he was still anxious from the horse situation. He sat up, watching their host with curious eyes as he scrambled into the room.

“Wake your brother and get out of here,” the man hissed as he pulled a bag off his person and began shoving his treasures into it.

Bakura was already rousing, though Ryou shook him anyway.

“Efendim, why do we need to leave?” Ryou squeaked, watching the man move about.

“It's dangerous to be here. Besides, your brother is well enough to move about on his own. You two should have left the second he was better.”

Ryou was scared as he jumped off the bed. “Don't send us out there, yet!” He begged, his eyes wide with fright.

The man paid him no mind as he swept around the room, collecting his gems and jewels. Ryou clenched at his tunic, fidgeting in his spot as he struggled to find pleading words.

Bakura was awake now. He looked groggy as he looked around the room. “What's going on?” He grumbled.

“Nothing's going on. It's just time to leave.” 

His brother sensed the man's urgency and narrowed his eyes. “What happened?”

Bakura didn't get a reply, though his movements faltered. Chrome eyes smoldered as they darted around the table had had just cleared. He then looked up at Bakura.

Their cool gazes met. Bakura was the first to move; he smirked and began sauntering towards the exit. “Come Ryou, we're leaving.”

Ryou whimpered and raced after his brother. “B-but we can't –“

Bakura sent him a glare laced with so much malice it forced him to stay his tongue. He lowered his head and followed his brother up the stairs and out into the open. It was night, so Ryou struggled to see as he weaved between the stones that hid the entrance. 

“ _There! I see someone moving!_ ”

Ryou's blood ran cold when he heard the distant shout. It reminded too much of what had happened not so long ago. He grabbed for the back of his brother's tunic and tug his face into his back, his whole body quivering.

“Quit sniveling, Ryou!” Bakura hissed as he halted and crouched behind a rock. “They're going to hear us.”

Ryou tried to force his down his hiccups and cries, his eyes beginning to go red with tears. They remained there for a few moments before Bakura gestured for them to move again. 

“ _Are you sure? I don't see anybody!_ ”

“ _Fool! It may be the Thief King. The likelihood you'll actually see him is incredibly low_.”

“ _'Thief King'_. I wonder if they're referring to that bastard host of ours,” Bakura muttered as he guided Ryou through the ruins. 

Ryou peered out and saw the patrol of soldiers not too far away. Their cruel faces and massive war horses made him frightened. Another whimper threatened to escape him, though he managed to hold it in. 

One of them glanced towards him. He gasped and lowered his head, though he wasn't fast enough.

“ _There! Over there!_ ”

“Idiot!” Bakura snarled as he grabbed Ryou's arm and dragged him out into the open. They raced through the sand in the direction of the city, though the clambering of horse hooves told him that running was a futile effort. 

Ryou whipped his head back to see the patrol practically on top of them. Swords flashing, eyes gleaming, the boy cried out and shut his eyes, fearing death was moments away.

There was a second, then a clang of sword on sword. He peeled his eyes open to see their host on Ma'at blocking the soldiers from getting to them. He had a sword raised, and one of the soldiers laid in the sand, a puddle of blood forming around him. The other soldiers were holding their whinnying horses back, their swords posed for attack. 

“Get on! Now!” 

The command gave no room for argument as Ryou raced forward clambered onto the horse. It was an effort, especially with his trembling fingers, but he eventually managed. Bakura jumped onto the horse behind him in a swift motion, and they were off.

Ryou secured his arms around the man's waist and buried his face into the back of his crimson robe. He didn't want to watch what was happening, though he still heard it. The patrol of horses were following them. The man spat vicious insults as he spurred his horse to go faster. Bakura was clinging to him, ordering their savior to go faster.

“They're catching up to us! Make this damn animal to go faster!”

“Shut your bratty mouth before I push you off and leave you to be trampled.”

“We're all going to be trampled if you don't get a move on!”

“I will not be ordered around by a little kid, so stay your tongue.”

“I'm not a little kid!”

Their arguing only succeeded in stressing Ryou further, though he was also relieved to hear the clambering of the patrol was quieting, signaling that they were being outrun. He breathed easily and buried his face deeper into the robe, wanting to forget that they almost died for the third time in a matter of weeks. 

Eventually, the two stopped arguing, and all was quiet except for the lulling beat of the horse's hooves hitting the sand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Ma'at is the God of justice. Just a random name I asked my friend for, so I'm not sure if it was used elsewhere. It's a good name, even if TK isn't religious.


	3. Chapter 3

"Efendim, where are we going?"

"It's not important."

Ryou sighed internally and meandered back to the rock where he had been sheltering.

The four of them – including Ma'at – had spent the whole night traveling. It seemed to be an unspoken agreement that, for now, the twins would be going with him. Ryou wished he knew his name, but he seemed reluctant to share that information, so he let it be.

They had found a small area to rest for the day. It wasn't too far from a farming village where the elder had disappeared to in the early hours of the morning. He had returned around noon with a whole collection of food, though he ate most of it. When Bakura demanded some, the man scoffed and instead gave a couple of onions to Ryou, who hadn't gave any inclination he wanted food.

He looked sheepish as Bakura threw a glare at his brother. Ryou didn't make eye contact as he rolled an onion to Bakura, who of course stubbornly declined it and went away to sulk. Ryou sighed and tucked into the sweet onion, enjoying the flavors that blanketed his pallet. After the scare form the previous night, his appetite was fervent.

As Bakura left, he heard him mutter, "Damned itja(1)," causing Ryou glare in his direction. It was an incredibly rude insult to somebody that had saved their life. Though he would find that over the course of their travels, itja eventually became a common title for their savior.

When the man finished his meal, he retreated to a separate rock and leaned against it. In that moment, the man looked incredibly careless. His head was leaned against his intertwined arms and his eyes were sealed shut. Ryou glanced over to see his brother resting on the ground in the shade of a different rock, his back to both of them.

The sun beat overhead, making him feel faint. He crawled over to his brother and curled up in the shade next to him, thankful for the slight degree change. His brother always begrudgingly let Ryou cuddle up to him, which he deeply appreciated. He enjoyed touching people; he always felt safe, even if the contact was brief. It reminded him of the hugs he would receive from mut.

The rest of the afternoon consisted of all four of them resting. As soon as it was dusk, they began traveling once more. He was thankfulMa'at was a hefty horse that could hold three bodies (even if two of them were very small and light). There was nothing but sand as far as he could see; it grew to be a very boring sight as Ryou stared absently.

Bakura seemed just as bored, but he stayed his tongue and didn't make a brash comment like he was prone to do.

Days past, and they kept up this drab routine. Few words were swapped between any of them, the most being the occasional argument or Ryou begging Bakura to play a game (he was usually denied).

"You always played games with me before!" Ryou had whined.

"Yeah well, back then our family wasn't dead and we weren't traveling through a desert with a bastard."

Ryou had lowered his head and stopped asking after that. He then turned his attention to Ma'at. Though their host hadn't told Ryou to keep up his care of the horse, he still did. He did his best to brush the beast with his curled fingers, and he guided the horse away from their temporary camp sites to relieve itself.

He found comfort in talking with Ma'at, though he normally got blank stares and occasional snorts in response. He was sure his brother thought he was crazy for it, but it brought him relief. And during such times, Ryou could use any relief from the lingering heartache and trauma that nested in his chest cavity.

…

When a city appeared on the horizon, both twins were happy, though Bakura wasn't as vocal about it as Ryou; he showed his excitement through a slight lighting of the eyes and eager prick of the head. Ryou was tempted to jump off the horse and run the rest of the way; if he had to continue sitting on that jostling horse any longer, he was sure his rear was going to be numb forever.

The last leg of through journey seemed to be the longest; dawn seemed to take forever to arrive. As the beginning of the sun rose on the horizon, the man had walked Ma'at into the city. Before they entered however, the man tossed a couple of headdresses to Ryou and his brother, similar to the one he wore.

"Put them on. Without complaint."

He added the latter statement because Bakura had furrowed his brows and opened his mouth in an attempt to argue. Ryou put the headdress on, effectively hiding his bleached locks. The piece of cloth wasn't nearly as uncomfortable as the wig Ryou had to wear before he lost it.

As they entered the city, people were starting to awaken by now. They milled around on their rooftops, or walked along the street, paying the newcomers no mind.

Ma'atcame to a halt. The man slid off of him, tied him to a post, and headed inside the building they stopped in front of. It was a pretty large, three level building. Ryou looked to Bakura hesitantly before following the elder inside, who was standing in front of a man and speaking in quick, hushed tones.

He turned to meet the two boys. "After today, you two won't accompanying me any longer."

Ryou's eyes widened and he squeaked, "What?! B-but efendim!"

He rose his hand to hush Ryou from speaking. His eyes were as cold and hard as chips of ice as he turned back to the stranger. He reached into his bag and fished out a glistening red gem, which he dropped into the stranger's hand.

"I expect this will pay for two rooms for a full day and night."

"O-of course! You may stay as long as you like!" The stranger said, eying his new treasure greedily. "Em heset net Ra."

Bakura snorted and mumbled something about not needing charity from a itja before he grabbed Ryou's hand and dragged him over to the stairs. They headed up to the third level, where the entire floor had been separated into rooms.

His brother dragged him into the one at the end of the hall. The ceiling was low, and there was a tiny gap in the wall that served as a window. It was a measly room with a single, cushioned mat on the floor. There were a couple of scratchy looking blankets as well, which Bakura laid down on the mat before draping himself across it and rolling over to face the wall. Ryou sighed at his brother's behavior before he slipped onto the mat, leaning against his brother's form and closing his eyes.

His attempt to sleep was futile. Instead, he kept thinking of what would happen to him and his brother now that their savior and temporary caregiver (of sorts). Especially since they were, yet again, in a strange territory. He wasn't even sure what city they were in, and he was sure his brother didn't know either. How were they expected to take care of themselves?

Ryou yearned to share his fears with his brother, but he already knew that he wouldn't take his worries seriously. He would brush it off with a haughty comment and turn away.

He fidgeted with the strands of his hair underneath his headdress and decided he would take his chances. But then Bakura spoke, answering his unspoken worries.

"We don't need that damned itja."

Ryou frowned and looked towards his brother's form, which was still facing away. He bit his chapped lip and began to speak, "But..."

" – No buts! We don't need him. I don't want to hear anymore of your annoying begging or complaining either."

All went silent on Bakura's side of the mat, so Ryou decided not to speak any longer. He remained quiet as he laid there, and eventually he managed to fall into a light sleep.

…

Ryou was awakened by Bakura prodding at him. His eyes peeled open, and a yawn escaped him.

"...What is it?" He mumbled as he rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"We're leaving. Now." Bakura's icy eyes left no room for argument. Ryou nodded obediently and stood up.

"Remain silent." He warned as he stood as well and began stepping lightly over the cold floor. Ryou didn't understand why he had to be quiet, but like usual he followed directions without complaint and fell into step behind his brother.

Bakura moved slowly out of the room. Down the hall, and into the next one. A familiar man was laying across the mat, his arms crossed and his form rigid. Ryou would have thought he was awake if it wasn't for the deep rise and dip of his broad chest. His bag laid against the wall across from him.

Bakura signaled for Ryou to stay in the doorway before he inched in. The youth was confused until he saw his brother approach the bag. It was a tense moment, and Ryou sucked in a startled breathe as Bakura accidentally killed the smallest of pebbles. Both boys froze and stared at the sleeping man, though he didn't rouse form his slumber.

Without disturbing the sleeping man, he slipped a tiny hand into the opening of the bad and pulled out a small golden bangle, which he slid onto his wrist underneath the torn sleeve of his tunic.

The man seemingly stirred, and just like that, Bakura darted for the door, shoving Ryou to go. A panicked look behind him proved that the man was still sound asleep.

Bakura took him by the wrist and dragged him through the hall, down both stairs, and out the front door of the building. Outside, the afternoon sun was scorching. Bakura sent a panicked look right and left down the streets before he dragged Ryou into an alleyway.

He then burst out laughing, "I can't believe it was that easy!"

Ryou, still frightened of being caught, stared at his brother wide-eyed. "What?! Why did you steal from that man!"

"Tch. He was a thief, Ryou, an itja. It doesn't matter if you steal from a thief."

"How do you know he's a thief?"

Ryou feigned to be ignorant, but he knew the truth. He knew no man with that many treasures would live like peasant. He would have massive palaces with servants and huge meals and a whole plethora of horses, not living underground. The man's wealth had to come from some kind of thieving, or he truly enjoyed living modestly... which was unlikely.

"Don't be stupid, Ryou!" Bakura growled, obviously unamused with Ryou's naivety.

"So... why did you steal from him?"

"He doesn't need that much gold and jewels!" Bakura hissed, crossing his arms, the bangle jingling underneath his sleeve. "He has enough of them."

From deep within the darkness of the alleyway, there was a deep cackle. It echoed throughout the narrow passage, making Ryou inch closer to Bakura, who was suddenly alert.

There was a flash of crimson before the man appeared behind Bakura, the familiar garnet-encrusted dagger pressed against his jugular, applying just enough pressure to cause the slightest trickle of blood to flow out from the wound. Ryou cried out, but he made no move to help his brother; there was nothing he could do.

"I believe you have something that belongs to me...?" The man asked, his voice as deeper and more threatening than Ryou was used to.

"I have no idea what you're talking about!" Bakura argued, though for the first time Ryou heard his voice waver fearfully. He was attempting to cringe away from the blade pressed against his neck.

There was another intimidating laugh. The man's free hand reached down to run along Bakura's sleeve where the bangle was hidden.

"Nobody steals from the Thief King," he growled into Bakura's ear. "Especially not a brat of a child."

"Let me go!" Bakura snarled, though he made no move to struggle.

"B-bakura! Give back what you took!" Ryou wailed, "It's not worth your life!"

But instead of taking Ryou's advice, Bakura suddenly threw his head back, bashing it against the man's broad chest, taking him by surprise. He then whipped around on his toes and threw his fist right at the man's jaw. Of course his fist was met easily with an outstretched palm, and within a matter of seconds, the elder had Bakura pinned on the ground, the dagger against his throat once again.

Ryou was frozen in place, "B-bakura!" He cried out, trying desperately to move forward, but instead just sliding to the ground in desperation. "P-please don't kill h-him!"

"You steal from me, then you try to lay your grubby fingers on me," The man was snarling at the boy, shoving him into the dust. "I don't tolerate that kind of behavior from anybody."

Bakura grunted and wriggled, unable to speak due to his face planted in the ground. Even in the face of death he remained defiant, his body struggling against the far stronger being.

"P-please! He didn't mean any disrespect!" Ryou pleaded, his tears straining the dirt. "Don't kill him! Please don't kill him! P-p-please..." he trailed away into a mess of sobs as he stared up at the man, his eyes wide and blurry.

The man didn't move, which made Ryou cry harder. He wasn't getting through to him...

Ryou scrambled a little closer, remaining on his hands and knees. "P-please... he's all I have left. Don't take him away from me..."

He continued to cry and weep, desperately hoping to get through to this man. He had managed to once, perhaps he could again. Perhaps if he begged enough... if he could get through to this man's heart, then he would release his (stupid, stupid) brother and let them go.

There was a scuffle, followed by a cough. Ryou peered up at them, seeing that the man had lifted his blade away from Bakura and was to his feet. Bakura was still on the ground, coughing harshly and trying to catch his breath. The man reached down and plucked up up by the collar of the tunic, reached up his sleeve, and retrieved his bangle.

Much to Ryou's shock, the man slid a hand down under his collar and pulled a necklace off of him as well before he discarded the boy to the ground, not batting a second glance as Ryou scrambled forward an grabbed his brother, giving his shoulders a shake.

"B-bakura! Are you okay?"

Bakura ceased coughing and held his neck before he glared up at Ryou. "What were you thinking!" He snarled, "Begging like a coward!"

Ryou winced, then cried indignantly, "I was trying to help! A-and it worked; you're alive!"

Bakura scoffed and looked away, swatting Ryou's hand away when he tried to check the neck wound. The man gazed down at them with a scrutinizing gaze, which made the hairs on the back of Ryou's neck prickle with unease. He didn't like that intense, chrome gaze that the two of them were getting, so he shuffled closer to Bakura and murmured quietly "T-thank you for sparing him, efendim."

The man continued to stare, giving no sign that he had heard Ryou.

"Your footing was sloppy."

The twins were quiet. Bakura glared up, though his gaze hinted confusion as well.

"Your footing was sloppy. A half-deaf elder from across the city could have heard you." The man said, crossing his arm. "Your body was too stiff, you didn't distribute your weight evenly, you didn't control your breathing. It was a pathetic display, really. The only thing you did somewhat correctly was that you kept a good eye on your surroundings, but even then, you tripped over a pebble."

While the man had spoken, Bakura had slowly risen to his feet, staring up at him, listening to every word intently. Ryou continued to cling to his brother, his fists knotted in his sleeve.

"Even if you stealing this gold bangle was a pathetic display, you did have the guts to steal from me. Had you properly controlled your breathing, I might have not woken so quickly." The man smirked and said, "You make a pitiful thief."

Bakura's eyes blazed and he puffed out his chest. "I am a good thief!" He hissed, "I took care of both my brother and I by stealing."

"What?" The man asked dangerously, cocking his head to one side. "You think taking a couple pieces of rotten fruit from a market vendor is being a thief? It makes you a street rat." His voice rise, "You're no thief."

"I am!" Bakura clenched his fists, glaring daggers at the man who had just threatened his life.

Ryou tugged at Bakura's sleeve, trying to warn him against angering the man further, but it was too late.

"You are not a thief. I am a thief. I am the King of Thieves." He stated, uncrossing his arms and holding them out from his sides, making his form look far larger. "I have stolen gold and silver from the tombs of nobles. I have stolen gems from the very pockets of the rich. I have stolen entire banquets from the most glorious and wealthy palaces!" He then gave Bakura a rough poke in the chest. "You are not a thief. You are a street rat. Nothing more than a begging orphan."

Bakura snarled and slapped his hand away. "I am no beggar, nor a rat! I could be a better thief than you!"

Ryou shook from their argument. He was deathly frightened that this man would slash them both in the throat with his dagger and meander away like nothing happened.

However, instead, there was a loud, ringing laughter that came from deep within the man's chest. He glared wildly down at Bakura, "You?! You think you could be a better thief than the Thief King?"

Bakura, looking as determined as ever, nodded furiously. "I will be! I'll – I'll steal the Pharaoh himself! And keep him prisoner!"

The man continued to laugh, though Bakura looked very serious in his resolve.

"You think you could steal the Pharaoh? Do you understand what you just said, boy?" The man looked almost insane as he crouched in front of him, his eyes blazing. "Pharaoh Atem comes from a ruthless line. He has a full army of thousands of men ready to die for him, and you, a little brat whose nothing but skin and bone, will take him prisoner?"

"That's what I said! I'll take him prisoner!"

"You would die before you could even make the journey to Thebes."

"No!"

"You would die before even making it out of this city."

Bakura bristled further, looking absolutely enraged at the way he was being talked down to. He stopped his feet stubbornly into the dust. "No! I will do it! I will take the Pharaoh prisoner and... and kill him!" He spat.

Ryou paled at his threat and looked around before he quickly whispered in his ear, "Bakura, no! Don't say things like that!"

The Thief King even looked a little surprised to hear this, though he didn't look displeased. "Kill him? Now why would you kill somebody as almighty and wise as the Pharaoh, a man chosen by the Gods themselves to rule over the entirety of Egypt?"

Bakura shook, "I'm not stupid! I know those were the Pharaoh's men who killed... them. For no reason! What kind of Pharaoh allows the death of innocents?! He let my little sister die! She was only six! What excuse could justify that?"

This was the first Ryou had been hearing of any hate directed towards the Pharaoh from his brother. Although, now that Ryou had a moment to reflect, his brother had become far more bitter... could it be that his brother had been harboring this burning hatred ever since the night they had lost their family?

Ryou had never considered this. He would have never thought Pharaoh Atem to be responsible for the death of their family...

"B-bakura...?' Ryou whispered, his voice coming out as a quiet croak, though it went ignored.

"I hate him! I hate the Pharaoh!" Bakura snarled, stopping a foot like the child he was. "He let my family die for absolutely no reason! He killed my mother, my father, and even my kid sister! What wrongs could a young girl cause?!" He was practically frothing from the mouth due to the malice in his tone. "His men would have killed Ryou and I too if I hadn't gotten us out of there."

The man seemed to consider this, his face serious. "It's high treason to speak against the Pharaoh, boy." The thief warned, his eyes narrowing, the scar making the expression look more threatening. "You would be publicly executed on the spot."

Bakura clenched his fists tighter and looked down, his eyes smoldering. "I know that; I'm not a fool. That's why I haven't said anything about it up until now. Not even to Ryou."

All was quiet except for the dulled noises of the nearby market and Bakura's heavy breathing. Ryou was dumbstruck at Bakura's outburst, his fists loosening from his sleeve. He couldn't believe what he had just heard...

Before he could speak, the man rose to full height.

"Come with me. We're going to attract too much attention if we remain out here any longer." The man then turned and disappeared down the alley. They entered the inn through the back door and retreated back to their room.

"We leave at dusk." He said as he slid back down onto the mat flippantly, as if nothing happened.

"W-we?" Ryou questioned, fiddling with the bottom of his tunic. Was this man letting the two of them travel with him? The man didn't answer, so Bakura spoke up, his voice firm.

"I want to know your name."

Again, the man didn't answer, so Bakura bristled and rose his voice. "I want to know your name! You know ours, it's only fair we know yours."

The Thief King turned away, letting out the smallest of scoffs. "I do not have a name, boy."

Bakura looked taken back. Ryou felt surprised; everybody had a name. How could somebody not?

His brother then smirked in a mischievous manner.

"Fine. I'll just call you Itja."

...

The night, unfortunately for Ryou's sore legs, began with walking.

"What about Ma'at?" Ryou asked quietly, only to be cut off by a shhhh!

"He'll attract too much attention. I'll return later for him."

Itja guided them away from the inn at dusk, and since then, the three of them had been walking through the dark streets. It was exhausting because, unlike the grand nothingness of the desert, here there were guards.

"Stay silent. If you have something to say, whisper it," he warned them as they slipped out into the streets. Most folk had gone to bed by now, or were in their huts eating supper. Ryou's stomach growled at the thought of food – they hadn't eaten since before they got into the city.

"Control your stomach," Bakura demanded under his breath. "We'll eat soon."

He clenched his belly and thought, I can't control when it's hungry. He kept the thought to himself and merely nodded, not wanting to irritate his brother at the moment. He had been on edge since his fight with Itja earlier that day, so Ryou went out of his way to make sure he didn't enrage him further.

The twins followed Itja through the streets, avoiding guards every so often. Itja was very adamant about not confronting them whatsoever, and Ryou had to wonder why. Surely he wasn't so well known as a thief that they would recognize him on sight? Perhaps it was merely a precaution?

Well, he did title himself the King of Thieves, Ryou reasoned. That title wasn't put upon him lightly, he supposed. It was probably best for them to go unseen by guards anyway; after what happened to he and his brother, he wasn't so sure they were around to keep people safe...

Itja lead them down another alleyway and stopped, peering around the edge. He made a scoffing sound and looked to them. "We'll have to take to the roofs."

Ryou didn't like the sound of that; going on people's roofs would be trespassing. But before he could speak against it, Itja suddenly turned and began climbing up the wall, easily using ledges and footholds to make it to the top. Both twins gaped at his feline-like skills, though Bakura followed quickly. It took a few tries, but his brother managed to climb the wall. Both males peered over the edge.

"Come on, boy. Time's wasting."

Ryou shivered at Itja's warning; suddenly, he felt afraid. He reached a soft palm out and put it to the side of the house, the stone cool against his skin. He then gripped the small ledge and pulled himself up with all his might, using his feet to push himself off the ground. As he rose, he swung a hand up to grab another hold, his skin scrapping against the rough stone. He pressed his pair feet to the wall and scrambled upwards, desperately trying not to fall.

Once he made it to the roof, he was a panting mess, and both males looked irritated he had taken so long.

Itja was suddenly racing away, leaving the brothers to follow.

"Come on," Bakura snapped before he began following at a quick pace. Ryou sighed, heaved upwards, and trailed after his brother.

Many of the buildings were connected, so racing over them was a fairly easy task, but sometimes they would have to jump gaps, which scared Ryou. Even if they were only a few feet wide, and the ground only ten feet below, he still felt frozen in fear. It took a lot of angry coaxing from Bakura to get him to jump the first gap. He sprung forward and landed clumsily onto the other side.

"How long do we have to do this...?" Ryou asked quietly, standing up and rubbing at a scrap on his elbow from his rough landing.

He was ignored by both his brother and Itja, causing him to sigh and trail after them. They traversed the roofs for only a little longer before Itja guided them down a ladder, back to the ground. He carefully peered around them, making sure the coast was clear before he slipped out onto the street. Ryou noticed that they had been heading towards the outskirts of the city, where there were less guards. They could travel somewhat more safely as Itja continued guiding them away from civilization, towards the desert.

Ryou was exhausted, and the prospect of traversing across the desert for days again wasn't appealing. He knew by now that most questions and complaints went unanswered, so he remained quiet and grabbed his brother's hand for comfort, who, as usual, accepted it begrudgingly.

Ryou's mind began to blank as he walked, his feet sluggishly shuffling through the dust. He began moving on autopilot, not bothering with using the mental capacity to pay attention to where he was walking. The pace they were going at became numbing. He only stopped when he bumped into Bakura's still body.

Itja had stopped as well and Ryou saw why. He hadn't noticed that they had been heading towards a fairly large stone building, which looked to be an entrance to a tomb. Itja wasted no time pressing on, heading towards the building. It wasn't very impressive, so Ryou figured it was simply for a noble.

It was an old tomb that had been long since abandoned and likely broken into, which made Ryou sick. He used to hear tales from his father about how men would raid tombs to steal the dead's treasures, which was the ultimate disrespect.

"Stay here," Itja commanded before he slipped forward to the entrance of the tomb, disappearing into the shadows. Ryou crouched in the sand.

"What do you think he's doing?" Ryou asked frightfully. "Is he paying respects to family?"

Bakura made a scoffing sound, "Doubt it."

He didn't provide insight or opinion, so Ryou continued to sit, resting his aching limbs. Eventually Itja returned, his body draped in dust and cobwebs.

"Come on. There are no guards or thieves inside."

Ryou got up and followed Itja into the tomb with great trepidation. The man had lit a torch, guiding their way through the darkness. Ryou peered around the walls, seeing etchings of drawings and hieroglyphs strewn across the stone. He had always heard that the process of making a tomb was careful and precise work, but the pictures were incredible!

Ryou wished he could read better, so he could understand the writing on the walls.

Eventually the hall opened out into a room. Ryou gasped; it was entirely in shambles. Elaborately painted pots and jugs had been broken, carefully woven baskets had been smashed. Ryou knew this was the room where offerings for the dead had been left, but there was nothing to offer except for discarded remains...

"What happened here...?" Ryou gaped, peering up at Itja for answers.

"Inexperienced tomb robbers," Itja's voice came out as a scornful scoff as he dropped his bag onto the ground and began lighting the scones hanging from the walls.

Ryou felt sick as he looked around the room. Disrespecting the dead was an awful crime, completely taboo. He could hardly believe somebody would do such a thing... he thought they were of only tales.

As he continued to look, he found that there were a couple of hallways veering off from the main room, presumably leading to the rooms for the sarcophagus. He decided not to find out; he had no interest in seeing what kinds of things the "tomb robbers" had done to disrespect the dead further.

"You two start cleaning up this damn mess," Itja commanded once all the torches were lit.

Bakura bristled and turned to him, "Why us?!"

"Do it, or I won't bring you anything to eat."

Those were his parting words as he left the brothers alone. Bakura scoffed and cursed after him, while Ryou sighed and got to work. He didn't mind cleaning; he figured he was doing the dead a favor by cleaning up the mess. He managed to find a rotting basket that was otherwise unharmed and began filling it with shards of clay and stone.

Bakura, of course, just stormed over and sat against the wall, not even lifting a finger to help Ryou clean. Despite his aching body, Ryou diligently worked to clean the room, though he wasn't entirely sure why he had to. Perhaps this was Itja's family grave, and he wanted it to be clean?

But if that was the case, why wasn't Itja doing it himself?

He sighed to himself. Most of his questions went unanswered by his two companions, so he didn't bother asking, he just silently cleaned until most of the shards and bit of basket had been put in a pile in the corner. With an exhausted sigh, he plopped down next to his brother.

"...You shouldn't let him order you around."

"What?"

"That bastard. Itja." Bakura barked, turning his garnet gaze to Ryou. "You shouldn't let him order you around like that. It isn't your job to clean this place, and he's in no damn position to be making commands."

"He's older, Bakura."

"So?! That means nothing! The man could be a hundred years old and he would still be a bastard. And I certainly wouldn't let him order me around, even then."

"You should treat your elders with respect. That's what Mut taught us –"

" – shut your mouth!" Bakura snarled, cutting Ryou off with the sudden vicious tone. "Don't bring her up anymore, Ryou. It doesn't matter what she taught us. She isn't here to regulate what we say, what we do."

Ryou looked crestfallen. He wanted to argue, but at the mention of her being deceased, he deflated and brought his knees to his chest, and buried his face in them. A silence drifted over the abandoned tomb, and eventually he fell into a very shallow slumber, slipping in and out of consciousness every so often.

He roused when Itja returned and tossed something at them. Ryou barely had time to catch what it was – cooked meat. Not just jerky, but a slab of meat! The scent made his stomach growl.

"Thank you!" He said as he dug his teeth into the slab, enjoying the salty flavors that coated his tongue. He glanced over to see Bakura digging into his own meat. Neither of them showed any signs of manners as they devoured the food within moments.

"So. Did you rob this tomb?"

Ryou choked at Bakura's question. He turned to look at him, abashed he would ask such a bold and rude thing to the man who had just given them a meal – a meal of meat.

Itja looked offended, but he scoffed and said, "Do you think I would be this sloppy?"

It was Itja's turn to get a startled stare from Ryou. As the boy stared at the man, gears clicked in his head and he suddenly asked, "Are you a tomb robber?"

He immediately regretted the question, but Itja didn't seem bothered. His lips twitched upwards in a smirk, and he stared at Ryou.

"Did you just now figure that out, boy?"

Ashamed, Ryou looked down at the floor. Had he been missing obvious signs? Was he really so ignorant that he couldn't notice an obvious tomb robber?

"He's not the brightest grape in the bunch," Bakura scoffed under his breath, licking the leftover flavor from his fingers.

"I-I didn't think tomb robbers were actually real."

Bakura looked to him scornfully. "You're far too naïve, Ryou."

Itja cackled, the sound resonating through the tomb. "Of course they're real, boy! We aren't just some myth that mothers use to scare their children. No, we exist, though there are few of us that actually get away with it."

"B-but it's wrong! It's disrespectful to the dead..."

Itja snarled, suddenly angry. "The dead are dead. They don't need food or jewels or clothes or gold. It's a waste of time and resources."

"They need those things in the a-afterlife!" Ryou squeaked, trying to summon the girth to speak his opinion.

"The dead do not need those things," Itja said dryly. "It's a waste. They could be used on the living, but no, ignorant people are so wrapped up in lies fabricated by the Pharaoh that they would willingly give up their last remaining scraps of food and treasure, just to be buried and never used again."

Ryou couldn't believe what he was hearing. Such an opinion was treachery. This man would be executed on the spot if he shared these thoughts in public. He might have lived isolated with only his family, but his father always shared what was right and what was wrong, and disrespecting the dead was definitely wrong, as was stealing.

...Itja had done both.

What had he and his brother gotten into?

…

The two brothers weren't given another meal. The hours ticked into a full day, then two, and Ryou's stomach was about to cave in. When Itja arrived back at the tomb in the early hours of the morning at the start of the third day, Bakura practically jumped him as he demanded, "We're hungry."

The elder threw him a flippant look before bypassing him and flopping down on the mat. "Then go get some food. I'm not keeping you prisoner."

Bakura bristled but huffed a "fine", grabbed Ryou by the hand and dragged him from the flickering darkness. Since they had arrived at the tomb, neither of them really leaved, so the sunrise was harsh on his sensitive eyes. Bakura didn't give him to to adjust as he released his arm and stormed in the direction of the city. Ryou rushed on clumsy feet to catch up with him.

"Where are we going?"

"The market." Bakura's answer was terse, making Ryou frown.

"Are you going to steal?"

"How else are we going to get something to eat?" His brother scoffed, "Since the bastard doesn't seem bothered to give us his food."

Ryou looked down and mumbled, "He has no obligation to feed us."

"We don't need his help anyway."

Ryou decided not to say that they really did, that they didn't know how to survive on the streets, but he remained quiet. The two trekked through the desert, making it to the city within an hour. There was a large market heading into the city, where merchants had their tables set up already.

Bakura guided Ryou to a pile of crates, where both of them hid. Bakura surveyed the vast market, his eyes searching the best stand to rob.

"We could grab some pomegranates from that table," Bakura offered as he pointed towards a vendor. Ryou followed his finger, gazing at the intimidating merchant.

"The man looks scary," Ryou fretted, remembering what happened the last time they tried to steal from a merchant.

"Stop being such a girl." Bakura tsked, throwing his brother a glare. "We'll never get anything to eat if you complain."

"...Your brother has a point."

Both twins jumped and threw horrified gazes behind them. Itja crouched there, looking almost bored.

"Where did you come from?" Bakura barked, getting defensive; he had obviously been taken off guard.

Itja didn't answer him and instead continued with what he had begun to explain prior. "Your brother has a point. That merchant is intimidating and probably is violent. If you steal from him, he could have a blade on him, or give chase." His eyes swept fluidly over the market before he continued, "Look over there, that merchant is obviously overweight. He probably lives well, eats well, and doesn't care as much as the other."

Bakura scowled, hating being shown up. "But all he has is dried fruit!"

"Dried fruit is easier to smuggle away from the table without being noticed."

Bakura looked angry, but Ryou looked curious. "Efendim, why are you helping us?"

"So I don't have to feed you. You two aren't babies, you don't need to be coddled, your meals don't need to be put in front of your mouths." Itja told him, his voice harsh. "You need to learn to get your food on your own."

"We can do just fine on our own!" Bakura snapped before he was smacked on the shoulder.

"Don't be an idiot, boy. You have no idea what you're doing."

"Then you do it. You go and steal something!"

Itja scoffed and rose. "Stealing from a commoner market is like stealing sugar from a baby."

He slipped away into the ground. Despite his crimson cloak, his fluid movements made him melt into the swarm of people. Ryou watched with awe as he slipped by the table right as the merchant turned to answer a customer's question. He didn't even seem to move his hand out to grab anything as he slid away, soon returning to the two boys. From out of his cloak sleeve, he pulled out an entire handful of dried fruit.

"That was amazing!" Ryou praised, despite the fact that Itja had just broken the law.

"Anybody could do that," Bakura growled stubbornly, standing up to do just what Itja had done.

As the twin stormed off, the older man shook his head, popped a piece of dried fruit in his mouth. "That boy is going to get himself killed."

This comment of course scared Ryou to absolute bits. "If he gets in trouble, you'll save him right?" Ryou asked, tugging at Itja's long cloak.

"If the mood strikes me," He answered simply, slipping another piece of fruit into his mouth. Ryou let out a strangled whine and turned to see if he could spy his brother somewhere in the market.

After several gut-wrenching minutes, Bakura returned, a wide smirk on his face. "I told you I could do it!" He barked at Itja, holding up his spoils.

"Oh, excuse me," Itja scoffed. "I'm sure that single raisin will be enough to feed you and your brother."

Bakura threw the raisin to the ground and looked frustrated. "It's all I could get. The merchant kept looking over at me."

"Because you look like an obvious street rat ready to steal his next meal. You have to look like you belong."

"In case you didn't notice, neither of us look like we belong. Our skin is pale, our hair is white, it would be impossible not to draw attention."

Itja simply scoffed and shook his head. "You're a lost cause. With that attitude, you're going to starve within a week."

Ryou looked down at his feet, wishing he an his brother weren't so pale. It was the first time he had ever felt genuinely sorry for himself regarding his skin tone.

…

It was the next day when Itja came back with the tomb bearing new outfits for them. Plain robes with red and gold stitching. Bakura shed his dirty tunic that their father gave him and pulled on the robe. Ryou was more hesitant as he toyed with the hem of his own tunic; he didn't want to give up his last remaining connection to their father so quickly.

Eventually he did. He tucked the tunic neatly at the edge of his mat before he pulled the robe on. It hung loosely over his scrawny frame.

"Now you look like you belong to a wealthier family," Itja observed. "And those robes hide most of your white skin. You have no excuse, now."

And so they followed the older man to the markets. Ryou stayed close to Bakura side as they moved through the markets. As stubborn as his brother was, Ryou could tell he was taking Itja's advice. His eyes scanned each merchant and what they had to offer. Finally, he picked a more elderly vendor selling some fruits.

"Look like you belong," Bakura hissed at him. He nodded and tried to not look so ridiculously nervous as they walked to the stand. A few people milled around, looking over the different fruits. The merchant gave them a glance.

"Are you two here to buy something?" The merchant asked, his voice scrutinizing and suspicious.

Bakura stumbled for a moment, and so Ryou shifted in place and murmured, "W-we're doing shopping for our mother. She's ill."

The merchant nodded, though he didn't look convinced. He then tended to some other customers, keeping a wary eye on the twins. Ryou and his brother continued to appear as if they were browsing, and the second the merchant wasn't looking, his hand flashed out and grabbed a small bundle of grapes. They began to slide away, and Ryou thought he could breath easy, but then...

"Thieves!"

Bakura wasted no time grabbing onto Ryou's sleeve and fleeing away from the stand.

"They stole from this man!" A deep voice was howling. Everybody in the market turned to look at the running boys. A few made a grab for them, excited at the prospect of an entertaining execution. Ryou whimpered and clenched onto his brother as hands reached for him.

The whole situation was deja vu. Running through the streets for their lives, all because they stole something that was completely necessary for their survival. Bakura swung around a tight corner, and suddenly a pair of hands grabbed them, pulling them into a narrow alleyway.

For a split, panicked moment, Ryou swore they had been caught, but a glance backwards clarified it was merely Itja. He dragged them deeper into the alley, while a small crowd of men raced by, not seeing them in the gloom.

Itja released them. Ryou then fell to his feet, panting heavily, sweat dripping off of him. He couldn't believe they had almost been caught again, that those people were prepared to catch them and likely kill them for thieving. And why? Because he and his brother stole a couple of grapes?

Ryou began to weep helplessly. He punched the sandy earth beneath him in frustration. _It wasn't fair_. It wasn't their fault that their parents died, that they couldn't provide for themselves. It wasn't their fault that the only way they could get food was by stealing. Why were they being punished more, when they had already been punished enough? They had lost their home, their farm, their family...

And now they were being deprived of basic living necessities. Where was the justice in that? Why were he and his brother being forced to live on the edge of existence, teetering over the brink of starvation? It wasn't fair. It didn't make sense.

Why is the world so cruel to us?

His brother said something, his voice angry, but he paid no mind. His mind raced as he slowly rose to his feet and looked to Itja.

"Teach us!" He cried out, his voice wavering, his knee shaking. "Teach us how to steal, efendim. Please, we can't live like this! We're going to get caught, and we're going to get killed. We need your help, efendim." His whole body shook as the tears streamed down his puffy cheeks. "We don't know how to live out here. We don't know how to get food, where to shelter, we have nothing. P-please, teach us..."

He had to take a deep breath before he managed to continue.

"...Teach us how to survive."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm too lazy to format this properly. Also, it hurts writing Ryou being so weak and feeble.
> 
> (1) Itja means thief in Ancient Egyptian, or so says Google. I was having a real struggle on whether I should call him Akefia or Touzoko, but I decided to go with something unique. I also like to headcanon that Thief King wouldn't have needed a name after Kul Elna, and would have eventually forgotten it.

**Author's Note:**

> [1] "Abbi" means dad.
> 
> [2] "Mut" means mom.
> 
> [3] "Efendim" means sir.
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if switching between flashbacks is a little confusing. Originally the flashbacks were in italics, but AO3 is a little funky with its html...


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